


Consequence

by AuroraNova



Series: The Vadari Chronicles [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 23:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18509716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: “It could be worse. I don’t snore, and you could’ve ended up with a roommate who’s never even heard of Shoggoth.”Julian and Garak strive to be fine with their respective losses. Results are mixed, but at least they have each other.





	Consequence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConceptaDecency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceptaDecency/gifts), [wcdarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wcdarling/gifts), [AlphaCygni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaCygni/gifts), [StarTravel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/gifts), [wizardsnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardsnake/gifts), [Tamuril2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamuril2/gifts).



> A gift for those who encouraged me to further explore the idea I set out in Collide. I hope you enjoy, as this fic wouldn't exist without you. =)

The immigration bureaucrat on Vadari VII is not particularly happy to see a Cardassian moving to her moon, not even one with a residence permit saying he worked with the Federation during the war. After a moment of eyeing Garak nervously, she apparently decides she has better things to do than harass a lone Cardassian. It has to be admitted that Cardassians don’t seem particularly threatening lately, seeing as how recovery from the Dominion bombardment is decades away.

On the other hand, she’s thrilled to learn Julian is a doctor. “Oh, brilliant, we’ve been asking for doctors and nurses. Here’s a map so you can get to the hospital; I’m sure an interview will just be a formality.”

Julian isn’t quite as confident, because there’s the small detail of his genetic resequencing, but he picked this system precisely because they’re so in need of doctors they’re less likely to care. “I hope I can be of use here.”

“Half of us are suffering radiation sickness from the damned Breen weapons,” she says. “‘Of use’ doesn’t begin to cover it. Now, you’ll need a place to live. Housing is limited, so I’ll put you in Prefab 5, Unit 47.”

“Thank you.”

“Where will I be residing?” asks Garak.

“Prefab 5, Unit 47. Individual housing is a luxury we don’t have. Consider yourselves lucky it’s just the two of you.”

Garak does not look as though he considers himself lucky.

“It could be worse,” says Julian. “I don’t snore, and you could’ve ended up with a roommate who’s never even heard of Shoggoth.”

“I suppose it would be too much to ask for a roommate who appreciates Shoggoth.”

“Undoubtedly.”

They make their way to the bloc of prefab emergency housing. It’s a small apartment, but serviceable. Garak won’t even let them decide who gets which of the single beds in their shared bedroom until he’s swept the entire apartment for bugs.

“Really?” asks Julian.

“You are not the only one with enemies.”

Julian uses the time to separate his few bags of personal belongings from the medical supplies he brought. It’s just as well he doesn’t have a great deal of possessions, considering the limited space. The apartment will do, though. It’s a roof over their heads, complete with computer terminal and basic amenities.

When Garak is satisfied that they’re not being spied upon, he asks, “Aren’t you going to start unpacking?”

“Not until I know I can stay.”

Garak immediately grasps what he means. “You’re going to disclose your enhancements? That doesn’t seem wise.”

“It’s in my identity file, right near the top. Name: Julian Subatoi Bashir. Species: Human Augment. Any potential employer can pull it up in half a minute. Not much point in trying to hide anymore.”

Garak gives him a disapproving look. It could be because Julian has been far too blunt for Cardassian sensibilities, or because he thinks Julian ought to have hacked his own identity file. Then he calmly states, “I must admit, I’m surprised Section 31 didn’t have your medical license revoked as well. It speaks well of you that they didn’t manage to.”

That explains why he checked for bugs.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, Doctor. It was obvious to me that either Section 31 or the Tal Shiar created the Changeling disease. I had originally favored the Tal Shiar as more likely, but you cured the disease, and instead of a commendation and promotion you were discharged from Starfleet. The connection is obvious.”

If Garak thinks he can lay Julian’s pain bare without getting his own prodded in return, he’s about to learn just mistaken he is. “And you, Garak? I don’t doubt you were in danger on Cardassia – I did read the news reports, when we got them – but that’s not why you left, is it?”

He’s hit close to home, because Garak’s eyes tighten, his eyeridges moving a few millimeters together, and his stance shifts ever so slightly to be more threatening. Encouraged, Julian continues, “You didn’t leave to save yourself. You left because this is the next chapter in your personal _Never Ending Sacrifice._ ”

Garak looks at him without blinking for a long moment, hard and icy. Then he relaxes, and there’s something like admiration in his tone when he says, “Perhaps we ought to agree not to speak of our respective enemies.”

“It might be a good idea.”

After a few minutes, Julian cools down enough to realize Garak may have been, in his own roundabout way, attempting to offer sympathy. It’s always hard to be sure with him. Julian sighs. “I don’t want to fight, Garak. We’ve both lost enough without turning on each other.”

Garak makes a noncommittal, “Hmm,” the one which means he’s waiting for more information before deciding on his next move, or statement, as the case may be. 

“I’d do it again,” says Julian. “Even knowing the consequences.”

The admission gets through. Garak says, “As would I, Doctor. It would seem you’ve absorbed something of personal sacrifice for the greater good, after all. Now, which bed do you want?”

“I don’t care.”

Garak takes the one nearer the window and sets a small space heater beside it. Vadari VII is warmer than the station, but not as warm as Cardassia. The latter point is just as well for Julian.

Julian sits on his own bed, glad that if he and Garak both have to suffer loss, they can at least do it together. “They tried to recruit me,” he says. It’s not like he can talk about it with anyone else.

“I’m not surprised.”

“I refused.” And they’d still used him like a pawn on Romulus. After that, he’d deleted his secret agent holoprogram.

Garak nods. “Of course you did. And then you thwarted their plans to rid the galaxy of the Founders entirely.”

“You would agree with them,” says Julian.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. You tried to kill the Founders yourself.” These days it’s hard to argue that his success wouldn’t have been good for Cardassia. Julian still doesn’t approve of genocide, but he learned years ago that forcing his own morality on Garak gets him nowhere.

“ _Before_ they started breeding their armies in the Alpha Quadrant,” Garak clarifies. “If you had not cured the disease, the cease-fire might not have lasted. We wouldn’t have to worry about the Founders, but we’d still have had a quadrant full of Jem’Hadar waiting to exact vengeance. At the very least, I expect Cardassia would have been completely destroyed.”

Julian suspects he’d still be in Starfleet if he’d managed to discover the cure all on his own, but that’s neither here nor there. He did what he had to. “I may not have a Starfleet career anymore, but I can sleep at night.”

“I’ve never understood how humans tie moral agony to insomnia.”

“Guilty consciences tend to keep us awake.”

“Peculiar, if you ask me, but suit your own psychology.” Garak, evidently done quibbling over expressions of moral agony, frowns at the window.

“What’s wrong? Is the window not secure enough for you?”

“The window is fine. But those curtains are hideous. I can only assume someone found that fabric on sale as the previous owner was attempting to rid themselves of an atrocious pattern… I’m so glad the offense to my eyes amuses you,” he finishes while Julian is chuckling. “At least it’s good for something.”

“It’s not that.”

“Oh? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“We’re talking about our curtains.”

As expected, Garak doesn’t see the humor. Julian attempts to explain, “Picking out curtains together is an old expression about relationships. Specifically, relationships getting serious with an eye to permanence.” It’s not as amusing when he has to explain.

Garak neither understands nor looks like he cares to. “Regardless, I intend to replace these at the earliest opportunity.”

“I’ll leave that decision up to you.”

“Good. I fright to think what you’d pick out,” says Garak, and Julian enjoys this moment of normality in the midst of his upended life.

The following morning, he comes home from his interview and starts unpacking. The hospital is desperately short of doctors and therefore delighted to offer Julian a position, starting the very next day. He may be an Augment with a Cardassian friend, but he has a valid medical license, experience, and a willingness to jump right in to start treating lingering radiation exposure from Breen weapons, and that’s what matters on Vadari VII.

Garak replaces their curtains within the week.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not planning to write more in this universe, but then again, I wasn't planning to write this story either. We'll see.


End file.
